


Separate Ways

by atarip



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I just need to release some sexy cowboy feelings, I'm not going to tag everyone sorry, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 04:39:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8518819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atarip/pseuds/atarip
Summary: An agent sent in to find dirt on Overwatch instead finds intrigue in a man who is not even supposed to be alive.





	1. Chapter 1

Rain was pouring down outside, making further travel out of the question. For now, Dakota was holed up in a small tavern, only a few miles from her destination. Any excuse to give her more time mentally preparing herself for her upcoming assignment was welcome, no matter how wet. That, the fact that Switzerland still had old taverns like this, and that she could not resist anything old time-y had her considering spending the night and postponing her arrival altogether.   
It would be nice, of course, to be around people she could actually hold a conversation with. Her one French course several years ago did not prepare her for actually _living_ in Europe. Granted, most people spoke English, but she found herself missing America already. She _did_ want to be there, but it made her nervous; assisting an elite, UN-endorsed, special-ops group seemed beyond her.   
For now, though, she was sitting at the old wooden bar, enjoying her last moments of uncertainty. After suitably embarrassing herself trying to order a jack and coke, she settled on sipping some water every now and then.   
There were only a few patrons in the bar. She had sized each one up when she came in, but they seemed harmless. Next to the door sat a man and woman huddled close together. They glanced up when she walked in, but were more interested in each other. There was a young man sitting at a table in the back, who she caught staring at her a few times. Dakota tried to ignore him, keeping her eyes down on the counter.   
The front door swung open and a cold rush of wind hit Dakota’s back. Chills ran up her spine, and she shivered. Boots clicked on the floor as heavy steps moved her way. Dakota glanced over her shoulder, and did a double take.   
A cowboy was walking up to her. An actual, real cowboy. In the middle of Switzerland. She blinked, then decided that no, she wasn't dreaming. This was just something she had to deal with now.   
From the wide-brimmed hat pulled low, to the chaps and the spurred boots, this man did not fit in at all. She couldn't make out his face, only that he was smoking a cigar. The barman didn't seem to mind, he didn't even look up from the table he was cleaning.   
“Hello, miss.”  
This was directed at her.  
Dakota’s face flushed, and she darted her eyes up and away from his tanned, muscular arm. He had turned his face up a bit, and the cigar lit him enough for her to tell he was smirking. And that he had a beard.   
“... Hello.” she could barely get any sound out. An American cowboy all the way out here was too much. She went back to staring at her water, not sure what to think.  
He seemed interested, or at least, she was the only one in the room who he thought was interesting enough to talk to. He took his cigar out of his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke in front of them.   
“I ain't meaning to impose on you. Just never seen you before.” He was speaking low, probably low enough so that only she could hear. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just sipped her water. “Cat got your tongue? It's okay, I'll find another scratchin’ post.”  
All thoughts of her assignment left her mind. She eyed him as he puffed away lazily, seemingly unconcerned with her lack of a response.   
“Who are you?” He turned toward her so she started again, “Sorry, I mean… I thought I was hallucinating when you walked in.”   
He let out a low chuckle, making her blush again. “Can't really tell you much about me, miss. I can tell you that I'm as real as anything else in here -- meaning, not much” he winked.   
She couldn't help laughing a little at the strange turn of events. “You have a strange sense of humor, mister.”  
He seemed to take her laugh as an invitation, sitting down in the chair next to her. “You're pretty strange yourself, miss. Ain't likely, finding another American all the way out here.”  
She was smart enough to not offer up anything about herself. It was possible for other agents to be around, or even terrorists. The only other thing around besides the base was a small village, and this cowboy probably didn't belong there.  
“I’m just passing through,” she smiled, hoping the vague answer was enough to draw him off.   
The man nodded at the bartender, who apparently already knew what drink he wanted. Wordlessly, he slid a drink down the counter, which the stranger caught with his free arm. Dakota noticed he kept the other hidden under the serape, but his gun was kept on his right hip, with his free arm.   
“Well, Ms. ‘Just Passing Through’, how's about I buy you a drink and then send you on your way?” His tone was light, but pressing. She nodded and smiled; he nodded to the bartender who slid another glass over.   
She ran a finger around the rim of the glass slowly. “Since you seem to want to talk to me so bad, why don't you at least tell me your name?”  
He did not answer at first, downing some of his drink.   
“Don't really think I want to do that, miss.” His deep, drawling voice lowered, barely maintaining the light tone.   
Her eyebrows rose “And why not?” She kept her voice equally low.  
“Maybe it's not in your best interest.”   
“Well then, it's probably not in my best interest to sit here and talk to you, cowboy.” She pushed her drink away and moved to pick up her bag. She was a little annoyed by the stranger’s secretive attitude, and she had to get going anyway. It was a long walk to headquarters.   
“Now wait just a minute, there-” he didn't move to block her at all, only turning towards her. He didn't need to physically stop her, she had been hoping he would say something to keep her there. “What say you and I make a deal.”  
“What kind of deal?”   
He lifted his head enough for her to see his eyes under the brim of his hat, staring directly at her. He had a steely gaze that was difficult to look away from.   
“I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours”   
It seemed silly -- and dangerous. In her work, even though she was not important, your identity was everything. The investigator in her wanted to know more about him, dangerous though he may be. But, then again, fuck it right? She had just joined the ranks of one of the most prestigious and heroic institutions in the world. She was in Overwatch.   
She could at least have a little fun first.   
She smirked and leaned towards him. Careful not to touch him at all, she moved her lips near his ear. They brushed against his hair, which tickled. She could smell cigar smoke and whiskey. He didn't move a muscle.   
“Dakota,” she breathed. She was trying to be sexy. She pulled back slowly and felt satisfied at his slightly dazed expression. She had succeeded. He quickly recovered, though and played along, leaning in. His lips brushed against her hair as he whispered.  
“Good to meet you, Miss Dakota. You can call me...Jesse.”   
His deep drawl resonated in her, more than she had expected it to, sending chills down her spine and making her freeze. She looked like a deer in headlights, she knew, but this was the most exciting thing to happen to her in a while. She was enjoying it.   
He did not move, either, though it took some time for him to speak again.   
“I would very much like to get to know you better, Miss Dakota”  
This shattered the moment. That, unfortunately, was not possible, she knew. Not only was this man too unpredictable and probably out of her league, she had a mission. As much as she wanted to stay there with Jesse and figure out what in the hell he was up to, she really needed to report to base.   
He finally pulled away, though he wasn’t smiling. Her lack of a response appeared to have affected his confidence, and she noticed his eyes darting over her face, gauging her reaction. She gave him a half smile, which only seemed to make matters worse to him.  
“Apologies, miss, if I’m being too forward. Just find you interesting, is all.” he said  
“You don’t need to apologize, mister.” she pushed herself off her chair and grabbed her bag. “I just need to be getting on my way.”   
Something about him affected her; she was hardly ever this polite. Dakota hadn’t called anyone “mister” since she had been in school.   
“I appreciate that, miss. And what way is that, if I may ask?”  
“You may, as long as I don’t have to answer.”  
He laughed at that, a real, genuine laugh that made her smile.  
“No, I suppose you do not. But I will see you off safely, since I need to be heading out myself.” with that, he also stood up. She had to tilt her head back slightly to meet his gaze, and noted with satisfaction how wide his shoulders were. She realized that she was being highly inappropriate and looked down, blushing.  
“Thank you, Jesse” she whispered his name, barely even making a sound. She looked up and saw that he had the slightest smile.  
“Anything for you, Miss Dakota” he mimicked her, whispering her name almost inaudibly. The sound was certainly tempting her to forget Overwatch a little longer, but she really couldn’t do that. She let him lead her out of the tavern, where they then parted ways.


	2. Chapter 2

The Swiss base was overwhelming, to say the least. As far as being a covert-ops special force organization, Overwatch didn’t really seem to value privacy much. There were regularly crowds outside of the gates, waiting to catch a glimpse of their favorite “hero”. Rather than discourage huge swarms of people and omnics alike, some operatives regularly made appearances out front, even if only to wave and smile. Even strike commander Morrison seemed to enjoy the attention; she had only been there a few days and had already seen him talking to the crowd twice. Popular agents made their comings and goings known more often than not, cheerfully greeting the onlookers as they passed.   
For Dakota, the deceptive transparency was obvious. They were hiding something. No self-respecting organization such as this would be so sloppy with their information.   
She found herself in Commander Amari’s office on arrival. Ana Amari was an intimidating woman, to say the least. Not one to beat around the bush, the commander scrutinized Dakota heavily.  
“The United Nations sends us many transfers.” Commander Amari stated matter of factly.  
“Yes, sir.”  
“They do not send us transfers with this level of clearance.”  
“Not often, sir, no.”  
“Never” the commander peered over the paperwork, narrowing her eyes, “we have never received a transfer with this level of clearance.”  
Dakota stood firm, staring into the commander’s eyes.  
“Sir, I have been assigned to Overwatch as an expert on the actions of the terrorist group known as Talon. Any level of clearance was granted to me by my superiors with the intent of facilitating my investigations into Talon’s activities and to further allow me to assist Overwatch in bringing those terrorists to justice, sir.” This part of her mission was vital, and it took every bit of Dakota’s training to hold up under Commander Amari’s harsh gaze.   
The commander studied her for a moment. She was older, one of the founding members of the organization, and years of experience made her sharp. Dakota kept hear breathing even, her expression neutral. After a tense moment of control on either side, Commander Amari finally sighed and lowered her eyes.  
“Yes, well. I am your superior now, Agent Spruce. As your superior, I am the one who determines your level of clearance.” the commander said, picking up a pen and marking up Dakota’s file.  
“.... yes, sir.”  
“I have read your reports on Talon. We, ourselves, have used them in forming strategy. In respect to that, I will grant you level three clearance” Commander Amari did not look up from her desk. Dakota did not expect such a setback.  
“Level three, sir? The recommendation for level one was issued by Secretary-General Adawe” she said this quietly, automatically. It was a mistake. The commander’s head snapped up.  
“I can read just fine, Agent Spruce. The Secretary-General is not in charge here. I am granting you level three clearance until you are able to prove yourself as a valuable asset to our organization” she spoke firmly, and Dakota knew there would be no getting around her decision, for the time being.   
“Yes, sir.”  
“Here is your file. You may go.”   
Dakota collected her things and turned to leave. She was already thinking of ways to get into the higher security records when the commander called her name again.   
“Oh, and Agent Spruce?”  
“What is it, sir?”  
“Do not disrespect me like that again.”   
Dakota nodded, but the commander had already turned her attention back to her desk. She couldn’t help the way her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Not wanting to upset the commander further, she hurried out of the office.  
It was a threat, Dakota knew. Her transfer was too suspicious, and at a time when Overwatch was facing more official criticism than ever before. If she wanted her information, she was going to have to convince the people here to trust her.  
***  
The base had a large courtyard, where one could see the snow-capped mountains and distant, flowery fields. Dakota had already decided that this was her favorite spot. She was given relative freedom, thanks to her transfer, and spent a majority of her time in the records office, searching for anything that she could use. But, when she needed a break, it was nice to sit outside.   
It would have been nicer if she didn’t have to be around anyone.   
Most of the other agents simply ignored her, probably used to people coming and going. Others, like Agent Oxton and Dr. Ziegler, were friendlier. Dakota suspected that their niceness had more to do with their personalities than any influence on her part. She had to remind herself more than once that she was not here to make friends; she should be above feeling lonely when the stakes were so high.   
Seeing everyone walk by without giving her a second glance just reminded her of how alone she was in Overwatch. She wasn’t meant to be a part of their family.   
It was a calm afternoon when it happened. Dakota hadn’t been on base a week yet. She had taken some old mission logs and was pouring over them on a bench underneath a large oak tree. They were useless, she knew. Level three was a joke; visiting politicians were given the same clearance.   
She was sitting there, frustrated, when Agent Oxton bounced up.  
“Hiya, Spruce!” she chirped.   
“Hi, Oxton,” Dakota smiled. Any company was welcome. Plus, Agent Oxton could be a useful friend.   
The other agent put her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at Dakota.  
“Everytime I see you, you’re sitting out here alone. Haven’t you made any friends yet?” Oxton wasn’t trying to be rude, Dakota knew, but she was still taken aback.  
“Uh, no. I guess I haven’t. Made friends.” Dakota said. She was here for _work_.   
“Well that’s because you’re shy isn’t it?” Oxton asked, brightly, “Don’t worry, I’ll help you!” She clapped her hands together and began looking around.  
“No, Oxton, please. This really isn’t necess--” Dakota tried, but was cut off.   
“OI! McCree! McCree! Over here!” The pixie-ish agent jumped and waved in the air. Dakota hid her face in her hands.   
She didn’t ask for this. She would be perfectly fine with melting or sinking into the earth right now. Attention was bad normally, it was worse when she needed to be inconspicuous.   
She was making up excuses on why she needed to go away immediately when the man named McCree walked up. She kept her face hidden.  
“McCree, I wanted to introduce someone to you.” Oxton was happy as ever, unaware of Dakota’s discomfort.  
“Well, now. Who do we have here?” a deep voice drawled.  
She _knew_ that voice. Her head darted up and her lips parted in awe.  
“Agent Spruce, this is Agent McCree!” Oxton was smiling. How could she be smiling? Nothing was making sense.  
“Pleasure to meet you, Agent Spruce” Jesse held out his hand. She took it, and they shook. She could swear he winked.   
“... Likewise, Agent McCree.” She said, breathless. She was still sitting, and the way he smiled down at her, framed by the brilliant sun made her heart flutter. She hadn't had time to think about him since she got to base. Seeing him in front of her right then didn’t feel real.  
They were still clasping hands - and for all his confident demeanor, he seemed surprised also. He was smiling around the cigar in his mouth, and the look in his brown eyes was hard to gaze away from. She knew it was silly, but seeing him made her feel lighter.   
“Agent Spruce is new here,” Oxton explained.  
Dakota never liked being spoken about as though she weren’t there, but her gift of speech was still lost deep in Jesse’s dark brown eyes. Who _was_ this man?   
“She’s shy” the agent offered, helpfully.  
Jesse let out a bark of laughter that came out in a cloud of smoke. Oxton wrinkled her nose.  
“Really, McCree? I kind of need my lungs!” she scolded, teasingly.  
“Sorry about that, Lena” Jesse shrugged, “It’s just that you could’ve fooled me.” He winked _again_. Dakota felt her cheeks burn.  
Oxton left them. Always cheerful, she made Dakota promise to eat dinner with her. Dakota almost asked her not to leave, nervous about being left with Jesse.  
They were alone. He was the first to break the silence.   
“So, Spruce, huh? Last name is as pretty as the first” he said, raising an eyebrow playfully. She relaxed a little.  
“Jesse McCree,” she hummed, “with a name like that, you must be trouble.” Dakota had heard the name before, she knew. She just couldn’t remember where.  
“Trouble?” he looked surprised, but quickly recovered, “only if you want me to be.” The last part came out in a growl. It almost seemed as though he might be hiding something, but she couldn’t help but giggle.   
“Well, Mr. _Outlaw_ , do you have some time to talk?” Dakota asked. It wasn’t really like her, but there was something about Jesse that made her want to spend time with him.   
“Mmm... “ he glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at her, grinning wolfishly “I can probably hide from Reyes for a little while longer.”  
She patted the space next to her. He sat down, careful to leave some space between them. He was dressed differently, today, except for his hat. These clothes were stealthy and simple, in dark grey and black. He wore armor on his chest and legs. Her stomach turned a little when she noticed a few dents on his chestplate, near his heart.   
“Close call?” she asked.   
“Nothing for you to worry about, miss. I’ll spare you the details.” his tone was light, but he wasn’t smiling. She knew not to ask more.  
She looked down at his hands, resting on his knees. They had been warm, but rough and callused. Strong, and much bigger than hers. Her’s were soft. Maybe that was why Commander Amari didn’t trust her.  
“I never would have guessed,” Jesse said, watching her, “that I would see you again, and here of all places.”  
She gave a small smile “well I couldn’t exactly tell you.”  
“I suppose so,” he trailed off, but picked up again right away, “Can I ask though, Miss Spruce, what you’re doing here?”   
She hated lying to him. It felt wrong, even worse than lying to the commander.  
She didn’t really have a choice.  
“Research. I’m here to research Talon.”   
“Talon?” oddly enough, Jesse’s face brightened, “I just might be able to help you with that.”  
Dakota was about to ask him how, when they were interrupted.  
“MCCREE. GET OVER HERE.”  
The voice was deep, gravely, and loud. It made Dakota jump and gasp a little, to her embarrassment. Jesse smiled, placing one of his hands next to hers.   
“I see you haven’t met Reyes yet. Don’t worry,”   
“MCCREE.”  
Jesse ignored Reyes’ call, looking instead at Dakota.   
“Looks like I’m going to have to go now,” he made no move to get up, “but I need to ask you something, miss.”  
“Yes?” her voice was faint.  
“Are you staying here on this base? Because,” he leaned into her, his voice deep in her ear, “I ain’t done with you yet.”  
Her head was swimming in a cloud of whiskey and tobacco. His voice had the same effect on her as it did the other night, and all she could do was nod.   
He smirked.  
“MCCREE.”  
This time the voice was right next to them, and it really made Dakota jump. Jesse pulled his hand away.  
“What, Reyes?” he folded his arms, “Can’t you see I’m busy?”  
Reyes stood in front of them, arms crossed. She had seen his picture before, but Dakota still was not ready for the tall, intimidating, and unfriendly man before her. He had been in Overwatch since the beginning. In the UN records, his position was listed as “unknown.”  
He glared at Jesse, and even sneered.  
“Get your sorry ass inside.” Reyes growled.  
There was a tense moment when each man glared at each other, neither one wanting to back down. Dakota had a feeling that she was complicating matters with her presence.   
In the end, McCree had to relent.   
“Yes, ‘sir’” he muttered, tipping his hat to Dakota as he left.  
Reyes watched him go, then directed his glare at her.   
“Spruce.” he stated.  
“Yes, sir.” she tried to keep her voice strong. It didn’t work.  
“Unless you want McCree to know why you’re really here, I’d stay away from him,” Reyes was quiet, but every word hit her like a brick. He waited long enough to gauge her reaction, making sure she understood, before turning to follow Jesse inside.   
_Why you’re really here_ … Her stomach sank, dread washing over her. Reyes had to know. But how could he? And why hadn’t he said anything to anyone in Overwatch? This was all going to be much more complicated than she had thought. Her mind turned to Jesse, but she couldn’t talk to him. Despite her feelings, she barely knew the man. She couldn’t tell him she was here to break apart his family.  
 _Jesse McCree._  
How _did_ she know his name?


End file.
